


Never say never

by singvogel



Series: Moonwood [2]
Category: Forgotten Realms
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singvogel/pseuds/singvogel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tos'un has always suspected that this day would come. A time when his family would be threatened by his past. Somehow though he is not quite prepared for the feeling of helplessness it evokes in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Past

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The recognisable characters appearing in this story are © Wizards of the Coast, Inc., all rights reserved. They are used without permission and for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made by the author for writing this story. No infringement upon nor challenge to the rights of the copyright holders is intended; nor should any be inferred.

**#Past#**

When he first spots the intricate tiny braids adorning his laughing daughter's head Tos'un feels as if the ground below his feet has suddenly become unstable. A shard of icy fear lodges in his stomach at the sight. He can still recall the woman who used to wear these braids very clearly. Often enough he even did the braiding himself and he knows there should be no one left who remembers how to produce the intricate hairstyle that Kaer'lic Suun Wett had always favoured in such exact detail.

He watches the bright morning sun play over his daughter's light, expertly twisted hair and tries to convince himself that he is mistaken. A few more moments make him realize that it is a foolish attempt and that this will not go away if he ignores it, as much as he would like it to.

„Doumi“, he calls his daughter, whose head even now barely reaches his shoulder. She is still so young and innocent, that the sight of her wearing these braids is terribly jarring to him. Especially when she looks up to him out of trusting green eyes, so unlike his own red ones at her age.

„Papa?“

„You look beautiful today. Who did your hair darling?“ he asks, relieved when his voice sounds normal, even though his heart is beating much too fast.

“Thank you!”

Doum'wielle smiles widely, obviously pleased with the compliment and eagerly presents him with a closer look of her head. It confirms what he has already suspected. This is exactly how Kaer'lic has always worn her hair. Down to the last detail. The style is too eccentric to be reproduced by mere chance. That cold feeling in his stomach spreads. Tos'un has always suspected that this day would come. A time when his family would be threatened by his past. Somehow though he is not quite prepared for the feeling of helplessness the sight evokes in him.

“Jaellien did it”, his daughter says. An elven name that Tos'un has heard before. It is the name of someone he has never seen in person, but about whom his wife and daughter have both told him stories when they came back from one of their relatively frequent trips to the city of Silverymoon. A friend who lives there, but whom he has yet to meet. Tos'un has never felt the urge to accompany them and face the self righteous inhabitants of the city, but now he wonders if he should not have paid more attention. “He always does it like this when we're in Silverymoon!”

But they are not in the city right now. They are in the Moonwood, where Doum'wielle was born only nineteen years ago. Which means Jaellien must be part of the group that arrived yesterday. A group of wizards, craftsmen and engineers sent from Silverymoon to help them with that embankment dam project that seems to consume all of Hralien's time lately. Tos'un smiles back at his daughter while he hastily tries to remember all that his family has ever told him about the elf they have been friendly with for some years already. A young mage, blond hair, green eyes. It must be someone he has known in the past. And known well too. How else would anybody be able to remember that hairstyle? But it is not possible. It can't be! How could a mage from Silverymoon have known Kaer'lic? As far as Tos'un is aware the others never went there even before he joined them, too afraid of discovery by the ever vigilant elves who dwell in the city.

While he is still wracking his brain for any possible connection, Doum'wielle is already speaking again, utterly unaware of her father's sudden anxiousness.

“He's here too”, she informs Tos'un happily and confirms his first suspicion. “Oh, but you came home so late yesterday, that you didn't have a chance to meet him!” Doumi says. “I don't think they have left for the river yet. We can go say hello now”, she suggests brightly, already taking his hand to pull him along and smiling as if nothing could please her more.

Tos'un forces his own lips into a rather wooden smile and nods agreeably, while his thoughts are racing. As he follows his daughter's light steps towards the small cluster of huts they keep for guests the drow tries to fathom what he should do if this alleged friend really turns out to be an enemy. Even though it should be impossible, since they have known him for so many years and he does implicitly trust Sinnafain's judgement, he can not quite squash the thought, the what if.

“Li!” Doumi cries. “Come and meet my father!” Tos'un can only stand and stare as one person turns and breaks away from the small group assembled in front of the main hut. Before his inner eye he watches a blond elf fall. It is a long fall before the frail body splashes into cold, churning waters, so deep below that it is becoming hard to make out any details. A certain death for someone who can not swim and very probably also for someone who can. At least that is what they had thought back then. It is a moment from long ago, but he has never forgotten. This is happening so fast. For a second he feels nothing but paralyzed dread as he sees the impossible become truth before him. He knows that face and the body belonging to it. He knows how it feels to grab these bony wrists, that are presently concealed under the wide, green sleeves of a wizards robe, and push them down onto the ground hard enough to bruise and draw blood from deep scrapes or how it feels to bury his fingers in that blond hair, grip a strand and pull so hard that the head is forced to the side and you can hear the small bones in the neck creak. He remembers all of this only too well.

You are dead! Tos'un only just manages to keep the words in, but he does feel how his face turns cold as all blood seems to leave it and hopes it will not be too obvious even though he feels as though he his barely able to breathe right now. He watches, still paralyzed, as the blond elf finally closes the small gap that still separates them.

“You must be Tos'un then”, the other says evenly with a small, polite smile and a formal bow, as if they had indeed never met before. “How nice to finally make your acquaintance. Doumi has told me so much about you, that I almost feel as if we've known for years.”

The words, their hidden meaning and the strange gleam in the green eyes instantly erase any doubts in Tos'uns mind. The other remembers just as well as he himself does. A good seven years of cruel games and humiliating service would be hard to forget in any case. Tos'un has not been there for all of those years, but long enough to add his own brand of cruelty to that of the other three. No wonder the braids on his daughter's head are perfect. The blonde has spent even more time than Tos'un putting them on Kaer'lic's head every day. He covers his helpless swallowing with a polite bow, just like the one he has just received. Fear claws at him and he feels himself blinking too frequently. He has known them for years Tos'un reminds himself. If he had wanted to hurt them he would have done it by now. But what if he only waited for this moment? It rather depends on how much he hates me still, the drow decides.

“I have heard much about you as well”, Tos'un forces himself to be cordial, although the smile he drags onto his face almost hurts him bodily. He hopes Doum'wielle will not notice it, but he is sure that the mage will. When he first knew him the other had no magical knowledge to speak of, but it seems he is quite a bit more dangerous now. The smile he receives for his words is razor sharp. Or maybe that is only his impression, because Doum'wielle is also smiling back at the blonde quite unperturbed by that dangerous edge. He viciously suppresses the sudden urge to snatch his daughter and get her away from here as far and as fast as possible. The drow has never felt this vulnerable in his life. Apparently the other wishes to play the unwitting stranger for now, something that leaves Tos'un relieved and concerned at the same time.

“Only good things I hope?”

“Why, of course!” Tos'un says. Normally he would be continuing with a question about why it has taken the other so long to come here for a visit, but the words stick in his throat and he has to think hard for a moment in order to find another inane thing to speak of. “I hope you had an uneventful journey?” he adds and feels stupid when Jaellien tells them that the group teleported most of the way. Of course they would do that. A lot of them are wizards after all.

“Has Hralien already told you all about his great project then?” the drow ventures rather helplessly, still unsure what the mage might intend, but inwardly quivering with tension.

Jaellien merely smiles again as if he does not have a care in the world and nods.

“He has sent several messages ahead so we would be able to prepare adequately”, Jaellien says and his gaze shifts fleetingly over Doumi's head, where he left his own message to Tos'un only this morning. A hint the drow understands only too well, even though he has yet to discern the whole meaning of this particular message.

This conversation is excruciating! It could be worse though, Tos'un realizes suddenly. Jaellien could be accusing him publicly. Dread presses his throat closed at the thought. The new name is hard to put into connection with a face he knows so well. It is the only one he has to use though, Tos'un realizes with a sudden, unexpected pang of dismay. In all of those seven years they had never thought of anything else than words like slave, boy or more derogatory terms to call the mage now standing before him. A tiny flicker of guilt, that he has never felt before when thinking back on those years he spent with the drow trio on the surface, is suddenly gnawing at him. It appears that Sinnafein has indeed managed to instill a sort of conscience in him. A conscience which is making itself known at the most inopportune of moments!

“Mama, has invited you for supper tonight”, Doumi chirps excitedly, distracting Tos'un from his unexpected feelings of remorse. Oh please no, he thinks, but there is no real way out of it now. Never mind the fact that he probably would have agreed gladly had Sinnafein asked him this morning. He hopes that the surprise at the invitation is not too obvious in his face, but that wish is quickly crushed by the glint of vicious amusement in Jaellien's eyes. The other could always read him quite well, Tos'un remembers unsettled.

“She said she would make the pie you like so much.”

“Well, in that case I will certainly come!” Jaellien smiles at the girl, before he turns his gaze back to his former master. “It will certainly give us a chance to get to know each other better.”

But they do already know each other far too well. That is the whole problem. The picture of a naked, panting body littered with bright red lash marks, spread out under him flashes though Tos'un's mind. He can still remember the smell of sweat, blood and sex that accompanied that moment and many others like it. How can the other stay so calm and collected, while Tos'un himself is still reeling from shock? Of course he has probably known for years now, the drow realizes as he smiles and nods in what he desperately hopes is a convincing show of a welcoming attitude. He used to be much better at this. There was a time in his life when dissembling had been such a natural reaction for him he wouldn't have thought about it twice.

Jaellien must be able to sense it as well, because Tos'un sees the short moment of dark satisfaction flit over his face, gone so quickly that he is sure no one else can have picked up on it.

Suddenly the drow feels ill equipped to meet this challenge. He is greatly relieved when Jaellien announces his departure to go with the others of his group in order to see how they might aid Hralien with his ambitious plans. He is even more relieved when he can steer his unsuspecting daughter back towards their home, so that she can go help her mother with the preparations for tonights meal. Sinnafein will not let her come to harm. She will be safe for the moment, he decides as he slinks off into the woods to find some desperately needed solitude, some place where he can just think.

He dares not go home beforehand. If Sinnafein saw him now she would notice instantly that something is amiss. The fact that his wife knows and understands him so well would usually be a source of comfort for the drow, but now it only threatens to drive him deeper into despair, for he doesn't know what to say to her about this. While she is of course aware that he has not lead an ideal life before he came to stay with her and her people he suspects that this purely theoretical knowledge and professed acceptance is not quite the same as having the subject of her husband's torture presented to her in a face to face meeting. Especially when said subject is also a friend of several years. To realize what he is really capable of would probably hurt her beyond belief. He has understood long ago that Sinnafein has a compelling sense of justice, which will not allow her to just stand by and watch others be hurt. Even though all hurt has already come to pass in this case Tos'un is not sure if she will be able to forgive him should Jaellien decide to provide details of his deeds.

And, as Tos'un silently admits only to himself, he still does not feel as much guilt about it as he probably should. The shiver of half suppressed excitement that wells up in him as he remembers the sensation of Jaellien's hot skin against his own mixes swiftly with that tiny glint of guilt he felt before and makes him want to wail in frustration. He grips the branches of the tree he has seated himself in hard and tries to make the feeling go away. The self knowledge he has gained while living here lets him abandon the futile attempt after several minutes though. It is painful to acknowledge, but apparently his moral standards are still not quite as high as they should be after all these years.

Just what is he going to tell Sinnafein? He cannot lie to her. Not about something like this. Their relationship so far has been built on a lot of hard work, endless hours of explaining, talk and most importantly trust. To lie to his wife now would mean that everything he has invested in that trust so far was worthless. What they have built together is the most precious thing he has ever had the chance to participate in and he would do anything not to lose it. Tos'un is sure that he loves her and that his love is returned, but he is also deathly afraid that their love for each other might not be enough in this case. Could Sinnafein come to love and despise him at the same time?

Why has Jaellien decided to confront him now? Did he come to expose Tos'un? The simple unadorned truth might be enough to destroy the life he has built for himself, for what he has done is quite unforgivable in the eyes of the others who live here. He knows that and in that sense he regrets everything deeply, but now that the past has been evoked in his mind he is somehow stuck on thinking of the many occasions when Jaellien silently crept into his bed, pressing close with clever hands and soft lips. Of course that probably had a lot to do with the fact that the caves they lived in were usually cold and that they never bothered to provide him with a bed of his own, Tos'un reflects cynically as he buries his face in slender fingers. Even after spending some hours debating it with himself, he has no clue what the other might want from him now. Revenge? Apologies? Groveling and pleas for mercy? Hells, he would probably give him that should he demand it. Their brief exchange this morning was not enough to gauge the mage's intentions with any amount of accuracy though. But he has come here, so he must want something.

Should he go back to talk to Sinnafein now? There is the slight possibility that she would maybe not understand but at least try to accept even this. And what would he tell his daughter, who still trusts him with the single minded certainty of a child who has never been betrayed in her life? Tos'un values that trust highly, because he knows only too well that nothing can bring it back once it is gone. If he remains silent though is that not the same thing as a betrayal? Should he not at least try to have faith in what they built together? Despite everything he has done in his life he is certain that he would never wish to hurt them.

Tos'un is so deeply immersed in his troubled considerations that it takes a loud cough before he even notices Jaellien standing on the ground beside his tree and for a moment he is frozen again.

“Will you not come down?” the blond elf finally asks. “I've no wish to strain my neck looking up to you.”

And he probably means that in more than one sense. Gritting his teeth the drow just nods silently and proceeds to climb down.

Once he sets his feet upon the ground he takes a few seconds to try and evaluate the mage's expression, but he could just as well be staring at a statue. The pale face gives nothing away. The features are mostly like he remembers, if a little more filled out. The blond hair has been tied into a knot on the back of the mage's head and is not hanging around his shoulders like it used to. Jaellien still has the same large, green eyes which regard Tos'un now, but they give no clue of what is to happen next. Tos'un swallows the “sorry” that has been lying on his tongue. The irony would be too much he feels. Instead he puts up his own inscrutable mask and decides to cut straight to the point.

“Why have you come?”

His enquiry provokes a seemingly unconcerned shrug.

“I considered letting you stew for a while longer, but my wish was to hurt neither your wife nor your daughter, by provoking a scene and ruining their evening, so I came to talk now”, Jaellien answers, probably deliberately misunderstanding the intended meaning of the drow's question. The feeling of being in the defensive is not one Tos'un likes much, but he stays still as the other starts to circle around him. He hopes not hurting his family will also include the emotional pain they would feel upon seeing him hurt. He realizes belatedly that he has but a single long hunting knife on him. Not a very good weapon against a mage. Not that he would really dare to hurt the blond elf right now. By simply keeping in mind the ugly truth of their shared past the other is virtually untouchable for him and they both know it.

“Where you thinking of telling Sinnafein about the years you spent raping and abusing me?”

Jaellien is standing much too close behind him and the soft words almost seem to creep over Tos'un's skin as the other breathes them out just above the dark skinned neck. The shiver they produce feels hot and cold at the same time.

“Yes.”

The answer, just as softly spoken as the question, was easier to get out than the drow had expected.

“You will not say a single word until I give you permission!”

That harsh, icy hiss almost has Tos'un turn in utter surprise, but a hard grip on his shoulders stops him before he can actually do so. He feels the fingers digging deeply into his skin through the rough fabric of his shirt and decides wisely to keep looking forward into the abundant greenery.

“You see”, Jaellien continues, softly again, as if answering an unheard question. “I do genuinely like both of them and I value their friendship greatly. I would not wish to see them hurt in any way and Sinnafein actually seems to love you.” Before Tos'un can say anything to that the other continues: “Even though you do in no way deserve that, you obviously love her enough to have apparently managed to protect her from yourself so far.”

That cool assessment comes uncomfortably close to some of Tos'un's own thoughts during the last few hours and he shifts restlessly in the strong grip.

“So according to you we are both going to lie to her?”

His unhappy question is echoed by a bitter laugh.

“Why, is that a problem for you?”

“Yes!” Tos'un hisses sharply. “Do you not see, that you might not be the only one to have changed since we last met? As you said yourself, I actually do love her!”

At that he his roughly pulled around, gripped by his collar and shoved against the nearest tree. Hard. The pure fury he can see in the green eyes now evokes a strangely double layered feeling in him. On the one hand there is the natural and expected wariness in the face of a dangerous adversary on the other hand though Tos'un also experiences a sudden sharp burst of excitement like he has not known in years. The drow curses himself as he watches Jaellien's eyes narrow even more. Of course the other would have picked up on his reaction. He is far too familiar with that kind of look to miss it.

“Let us see how much you have changed then! I will ask you a question now”, Jaellien is practically growling with rage. “Which I expect you to answer. And be assured that I will know if you lie.”

He presses himself close to Tos'un so that their bodies touch almost at full length and whispers in one dark skinned ear.

“Consider this: If you knew for sure there would be no consequences, that no one would find out and I was weak like I used to be, would you not try to overpower me, throw me down on the ground right now and fuck me raw, like you used to?”

The instant reaction of his body to the image these words produce in his brain makes Tos'un's face burn. No consequences. Damn. The truth is, with this particular elf he probably would. He has done that often enough. It is not a question he really wants to answer. Not with the other still pressed so terribly close. He grips the tree behind him to keep his hands from twitching and suppresses the urge to lick his lips.

“Your silence tells me more than words ever could, you know”, the blonde says when after a few long moments Tos'un still fails to produce a single sound. He cannot really see the face, but the anger in those words is hard to mistake for anything else.

The drow gasps sharply when he suddenly feels insistent fingers that are working their way past his belt. Automatically, unthinkingly he jerks and tries to bend his body backwards and away, but he only manages a tiny movement of his head before he collides with the tree in his back. It is too late anyway. The clever fingers have already closed around his penis. The traitorous thing even twitches at the unexpected attention. A few leisurely strokes quickly bring him to full attention. It's really quite pathetic how easy that was, he thinks to himself and bites his lip to keep still, torn between the wish to push Jaellien away and the sudden rush of giddy excitement that is twisting in his stomach.

“I notice that you are not asking me to stop.”

The blond elf's lips brush against his cheek as he speaks, while the second hand closes on his shoulder once more, in an unforgiving grip, which Tos'un knows will leave a painful bruise. He shivers again.

“You hold the power in this”, he gasps, trying hard not to squirm. “You will do as you wish in any case.”

The grip on his shoulder tightens impossibly, probably aided by some magic, and this time the pain is enough to make the drow audibly grind his teeth. It does not quite diminish his arousal though.

“Like you would in my place? Remember what I said: No consequences.”

The grip grows harder below now too, but not so much that it would kill the damning feeling of lust, rather the opposite. Jaellien has always been almost eerily good at this. He knows how to play Tos'un's body like a finely tuned instrument, a talent he has apparently not lost even after all the years that have passed since they were parted. But as he finally does squirm helplessly, biting his lips to keep in all sound Tos'un remembers that he does know quite a lot of things as well that would make the elf gasp and blush. He is just not sure if it would be a good idea to use any of them, for Jaellien might actually hurt him if he takes initiative and touches him now. In the end Tos'un keeps his grip on the tree and contents himself with a breathy: “You already know the answer to that, don't you?”

It is the truth after all. Even though he does not like it.

When soft, insidious lips close on the shell of his ear it is all Tos'un can do not to whimper needily.

“I think I do, but why don't you oblige me and say it out loud?”

The fingertips stroking lightly along the sensitive underside of his penis do not help him much in finding a coherent answer.

“On most days the knowledge that there are consequences is enough.”

Tos'un can feel the lips on his ear stretch into a humorless smile.

“Oh, believe me I am quite aware of that.”

The fingers movements grow more insistent and he is almost past caring as he realizes how close he is already. Apparently it doesn't take much to break through his defenses nowadays.

“If it wasn't Sinnafein would never have married you. I just don't think you dare to admit even to yourself how little you have actually changed underneath it all. As I said, you protect her from the parts of yourself she couldn't live with.”

Tos'un wonders dimly how it is possible, but Jaellien somehow manages to lean even closer and the added pressure is almost enough to make him come on the spot. Almost. And the bastard knows it too.

“I'm quite sure you have never held her head under water or choked her while you fucked her until she came.”

The memories of the few occasions when he did put Jaellien through such treatment and the way the grip on his shoulder grows a tiny bit stronger still until it hurts just right are enough to push Tos'un over the edge during the next seconds. This was humiliating, but also strangely satisfying he decides hazily, fully aware that their encounter would be viewed as highly inappropriate in the close community he is living in.

While the drow is still panting, slumped against the tree, the mage withdraws swiftly and holds out his soiled hand.

“Well?”

There is no hesitation as Tos'un bows down to lick the fingers clean and he notes with silent satisfaction, that the whole procedure does not leave the other unaffected. Not at all, if he goes by the quickened breathing and widened pupils. As soon as he is finished though, he finds himself roughly pushed away, so that he ends up crouching next to the tree again.

“I would take you”, he admits quietly, taking great care not to look at Jaellien while he says that. “But alas, there are consequences, so I won't.”


	2. Present

# **Present** #

 

Finally Tos'un dares to look up, only to meet a hard green eyed stare.

“That's all I wanted to hear.”

With that Jaellien simply turns and starts back towards the village. Tos'un follows after hastily putting his appearance back in order. Apparently they are going to have that Dinner after all, because Jaellien actually stops after a while and throws him an expectant look, before he continues on his way.

“Please don't force me to lie to her”, Tos'un begs quietly when he finally catches up to the mage, wondering at how easy it is to demean himself like that, when their interactions have always been so vastly different in the past. He stops dead though, when Jaellien suddenly whirls around to face him, the rage back in his eyes, but with a quiet simmering quality this time, a sight that evokes the first tendrils of real fear in him. This is clearly not over yet.

“Tell me: Do you really expect me to consider your wishes?”

Tos'un keeps himself still and swallows silently.

“When have _you_ ever cared what I wanted?”

He knows he has not, but he also does not want his family to suffer for his mistakes.

“Please”, he begs again, his voice growing soft with desperation. “This is the only worthwhile thing I have managed in my life. Please don't make me betray her. She does not deserve that!”

The rage he faces does not diminish.

“But you have already been betraying her anyway by keeping a side of you from her, which she would be sure to despise! You are betraying them all, every day!”

“And you think forcing me to go on like that is the solution? That is just stupid!” Tos'un cries out in frustration. He is not prepared for the stinging slap that follows his outburst.

“You are so damnably selfish, I would really like to kill you right now!” Jaellien hisses, while the drow is still blinking in surprise, feeling his suddenly heating cheek. Despite his intellectual awareness of their altered stations it still comes as a surprise to him to receive actual violence from Jaellien's hands. “Have you ever considered that maybe I don't want everybody to know?” the elf continues still angry. “The scars you graced me with garner enough attention already. I really have no wish to spread the story of my humiliation and suffering publicly for each and everyone to hear!”

“Sinnafein is not everyone. You tell her then, if you don't want me to do it!” Tos'un demands stubbornly, wondering whether he might not be digging his own grave by doing this. For a moment the mage really looks like he might snap, but then he pulls himself together, his features smoothing out into a blank, polite mask, that Tos'un knows only too well. It is dangerous, because he has no idea what might be hiding behind it. That never used to matter, but he is surprised to find how much of a difference it makes now.

“I never said I wouldn't tell her”, Jaellien informs him with an unfeeling, truly sinister smile suddenly forming on his face. “I merely meant that it is purely up to me to decide on the when and what. If you overstep your bounds in this you will suffer for it.”

After that verdict Tos'un can only look away in defeat. There is nothing left he could say right now that would make any difference at all.

As he silently follows Jaellien back towards his home he wonders about the mage's intentions. Jaellien could virtually destroy his whole existence with the information he has, but right now he does not seem to want to do that. Is it merely the wish for control over Tos'un's actions that compels him to act? Is it the wish for revenge? He could have had that any time over the last several years though. Why has he come only now? But more importantly what can Tos'un do to defend himself? He needs to think strategically. If it should come to the worst he will also need someone who would still support him. He must find out what it is that his former slave wants now. A few beatings he could take. They might leave scars, but he has enough of those anyway. There are other things though. What occurred today was not only about simple, straightforward retaliation he thinks. Not with the way Jaellien reacted, the close contact he initiated himself. There must be more, but Tos'un does not know just how twisted the other's feelings might really be, especially not with the way he himself still feels drawn to the blonde, the perverse, unsettling fascination that overcomes him when thinking about the other.

Now that the ghosts of the past have been woken Tos'un finds himself remembering things he had thought buried and forgotten for years. It frightens him to discover how tempting it still is, how much sharp, clear cut excitement he feels at the thought of doing the things Jaellien described to him today. After everything he has learned living here, should he not feel differently? He understands about morals now after all. Or at least he has thought so until today. That was something which did not come easily to him. He understands enough to know that he should not feel this way. Has he been lying to himself all those years? The drow knows that, by the standards he has worked so hard to adhere to Jaellien would have every right to demand compensation for the things that were done to him. He knows that is what he should offer and he will most probably do it too, if he gets the chance, but is it not useless without remorse to accompany everything? Tos'un is still wondering about it as they reach the end of the treeline.

Maybe it is because Jaellien is still so closely connected to a past when he felt that nothing of what he did was actually wrong. Would he still be capable of behaving and feeling the same way today, when presented with a different slave to torment? Tos'un knows that he does not wish to go back to the life he lived then, but the question remains and his inability to answer it with any kind of certainty troubles him nonetheless. He is very sure that he is incapable of hurting his own daughter intentionally, but maybe his care does not extend so much farther after all. If pressed hard enough how far would he be willing to go now?

In the end Jaellien shows at least some small bit of mercy, after they both arrive at Tos'un's home and it becomes obvious that the superficially cordial conversation is too stilted and filled with strange little moments of silence. He explains curtly that, the two of them have had a tense discussion today which ended in disagreement. He refuses to say anything else despite Sinnafein's careful, well meaning questions. They try to keep things friendly for Doumi's benefit, but it becomes more and more painful as the evening progresses and Jaellien does not stay long past their meal.

Tos'un watches his departure with equal parts of relief and dread, because he knows there will be no way to escape his wife's questions now.

She does not start to interrogate him immediately though. No, she waits, thinking it all over until the moment when it is time for them to undress and finally slip into bed. Sinnafein is already pulling the covers over herself, giving him an expectant look, when Tos'un remembers how his shoulder must look now. Another question he won't be able to answer. He hesitates in pulling the shirt over his head, unconsciously looking towards the door thinking about a way to leave and put this off for a little while longer.

“Tos'un!” his wife interrupts him decisively, knowing full well the general course his thoughts are taking. “You are not getting out of this room until we have talked.”

She seems unimpressed by the look of dismay he gives her. At least her preoccupation means he gets to leave the shirt on for now, merely going over to sit on top of the bedcovers next to her. Maybe she will not find it to be too unusual if he keeps it on later, even though the nights are not cold yet.

“Tonight did not at all go as I expected”, she says softly, the implied questions hanging heavy in the air between them.

“No”, Tos'un sighs. “My apologies. I did not intend to spoil the evening like that.”

How he wishes he could just hold her close now, bury his nose in her hair and make all these conflicting feelings go away for a while, smother them with the comforting warmth and care he knows he will find with her. His life was so much easier before Jaellien turned up again an made him question his convictions.

“So, you are not going to tell me what that was all about?” Sinnafein asks after a while when he does not continue. Helplessly Tos'un looks away, clinging to the feeling of comfort which wells up in him as two determined arms encircle him from behind. “I don't like seeing you so troubled”, she says quietly behind him. Her chin is resting on the very same shoulder Jaellien had gripped so harshly not long ago. The resulting dull ache makes him bite his lip. He leans back despite himself, soaking up the comforting warmth of her presence at his back. “I cannot quite place it, but this looks more serious to me than a simple disagreement.”

“I... I cannot tell you.”

How pitiful that sounds, even though it is the truth. He can sense her frown at the unsatisfactory answer.

“Cannot?”

“I mustn't.”

That finally makes her sit up straighter.

“What happened between the two of you?”

Worry has crept into her voice now.

“You must ask him yourself.”

Sinnafein takes hold of his uninjured shoulder to make him turn towards her and regards him with a searching look. Only now is she realizing the full depth of her husband's apprehension and her frown becomes ever deeper. Since he knows her so well Tos'un can sense that she is considering to go and start a confrontation with Jaellien right now. Normally that kind of unyielding determination to get to the bottom of things before making a judgement is one of the things he loves most about her, but at the moment he is quite sure that a confrontation would only make matters worse.

“Tomorrow?” he adds, half questioning half pleading.

Sinnafein is clearly not satisfied, but relents eventually, trusting his judgement.

“If you think that's best”, she says, still doubtful, but willing to acquiesce to his request for now.

She does not ask Tos'un why he pulls her close to hold her with something akin to desperation once they are both lying down, instead she just continues to worry silently.

After spending a restless night fraught with worry and thoughts which went in unending circles Sinnafein has no patience left to wait until they have finished breakfast. As soon as she determines that the day has progressed enough to make a very early call she quietly slips out of bed, pulls on yesterdays garments and makes her way over to the guest huts.

The bleary eyed dwarf engineer who opens the door is only too glad to be able to go back to sleep after he drags an apprehensive Jaellien out of bed and deposits him into her care.

“I would like to talk to you Li”, she says bluntly. “Let us go for a walk.”

Her friend nods silently and motions for her to lead the way. Neither of them speaks during the time it takes them to get out of the village's immediate hearing range. Once they have reached a small clearing Jaellien stops and turns to face her. Sinnafein notes that he does not look as if he has slept at all that night. An observation that does nothing to alleviate her concerns.

“I'm sorry”, Jaellien blurts out, before she can say a single word. “It was a bad idea to come here.”

Now that does not explain anything really. Even though it makes her think that there must have been some kind of plan behind this whole journey, something she has apparently missed completely so far.

“What happened yesterday?” Sinnafein asks as gently as she can manage under the circumstances, with all the worries still crowding in her mind. “Tos'un refused to tell me anything at all, but I can see that it has affected you both.”

She is surprised when Jaellien's instant and only reaction to that is to bury his face in his hands.

“He said he was forbidden to talk about it?” Sinnafein ventures tentatively.

“I thought I was ready. After all this time I thought I was finally ready”, Jaellien speaks into his hands, which makes his already cryptic words almost incomprehensible. “But somehow it all got out of hand so quickly and I just wasn't prepared. I didn't expect that it would overwhelm me so, that I would still be so furious. That I... I'm so sorry. I never wanted to upset you.”

He draws in a deep shuddering breath and when he finally lets his hands fall to his side Sinnafein can clearly see the tears glinting in the corners of his green eyes. Torn between the wish to find out more and the urge to comfort her friend she opts for trying both and draws the trembling Jaellien into her arms while saying: “Ready for what? What are you talking about Li?”

“T-tell Tos'un he may tell you whatever he wants. I will leave now”, Jaellien says and promptly starts to disentangle himself. It is all Sinnafein can do to follow him as he practically races back towards the hut.

“Wait! Li, wait!” she cries, but the mage seems not to hear her. Cursing she can only watch as he storms inside, grabs his already packed bag. Has he been planning this? Just when she starts to implore him to cease this ridiculous behavior he gets back out again. With a last unbearably sad look Jaellien twists a simple golden ring on his left hand and vanishes. Sinnafein curses even more loudly. This did not go like she had imagined. Not at all. If it wasn't so childish she would be stomping her foot now out of sheer frustration. Why will these stupid men not tell her anything?!

Fuming she marches back to her own home, where she finds Tos'un sitting at their table, staring at her with something she can only interpret as fear in his eyes. That is the last straw.

“You will tell me right now, what in all nine hells happened yesterday or I swear I will find a way to make you!” she snaps sharply. As a threat that should be laughable to him, because she is sure Tos'un has heard some things in his life that were far worse, but nonetheless she sees her husband flinch as if she had hit him. A sobering sight which almost breaks her heart, for she knows there were times when the tone she has just graced him with could indeed have heralded serious violence or torture.

With a deep calming breath Sinnafein sits down at the table that is already set for breakfast and grips the cup in front of her with both hands. Maybe she can steady herself that way.

“I'm sorry”, she says, staring into the steaming tea. “I should not have snapped at you so. This has been a very vexing morning for me. Li wouldn't say anything I could actually comprehend... well he did say a few things, but they made no sense to me and then he just started crying and teleported away. Just like that.”

“He cried?!”

This time when she looks up sharply Tos'un does not draw back, but that might be due to a conscious effort on his part. He is still very tense. Why did he sound so surprised?

“He also said he was sorry and that you were free to tell me anything you liked”, Sinnafein says pointedly and watches the conflicting emotions flitting over the dark, handsome face of her husband. The initial surprise is quickly but briefly followed by relief and then by new fear and a flicker of what she would swear is guilt.

“Very well. You are not going to like it.”

Obviously it is Tos'un's turn now to avoid her gaze and stare into his teacup.

“Believe me, I have already surmised as much.”

“Can we go somewhere else?” he asks quietly. “I don't want Doumi to hear.”

So it is that bad she thinks, but nods. A sinking feeling slowly starts to spread in her stomach.

This time they walk a lot farther into the woods than she had done with Jaellien. Maybe Tos'un needs the time to collect his thoughts, but it grates on her even though she tries not to let it show.

When Tos'un does stop and turns towards her he looks indeed as if he is expecting some kind of imminent doom. It is not a look he wears often and it makes her want to shake him, do anything so that he will just finally start talking. And then he does.

“We have met before, Jaellien and I.”

Sinnafein only nods, unwilling to interrupt now that it appears as if Tos'un will at last tell her what has left the two of them so distraught. She still cannot quite shake the impression that she is missing something vital.

“It was quite some time ago, when I first joined Kaer'lic and the other two. Years before Obould even. Jaellien had already been with them for some time by then, so I don't know how he came to be there originally, but he was still quite young.”

The sinking feeling in Sinnafein's stomach is quickly turning into something else, something that expands swiftly and bubbles up her spine to lodge inside her throat until she thinks she will never be able to breathe again.

“You can probably imagine that we did not treat him very well. He was a slave, a mere plaything for us.”

Yes, she can imagine that. It is not something she really wants to think about though.

“He escaped?” Sinnafein dares to ask when nothing follows, somehow pressing the words past the terrible lump in her throat. The uncomfortable grimace that appears on Tos'un's face tells her without words that that has not been the case.

“Not really.”

It takes another long moment until he continues, staring away from her into the greenish shadows beneath the thick foliage.

“Donnia surprised us all when she pushed him off a cliff into a raging river one day. After that we simply assumed that he had died.”

“She... what?”

“Maybe she was annoyed because Ad'non had been bedding him once too often. I don't know. She wouldn't tell us afterwards.”

The words sound horribly callous coming out of Tos'un's mouth with barely any inflection at all. Had Sinnafein not seen with her own eyes that there is indeed a vulnerable, caring side to the man in front of her she would not be able to believe it right now. He holds himself so calmly, all reaction perfectly controlled until she can barely notice his emotions any longer. Breathe, she tells herself. Breathe. She has always known of course that her husband has not lead an exemplary life before he joined her people. They have talked about it often enough. She had also thought that she had accepted this fact and moved past it, but right now it feels as if she is falling, unable to react in any reasonable way.

“It is different when it is someone you know, isn't it?”

The pain that has suddenly reappeared in Tos'un's voice somehow helps to ground her again. At least enough to find her voice and show some kind of reaction.

“I think I need to sit down”, she mumbles, still trying to comprehend the enormity of what she has just been told, and then proceeds to do just that. Her body just sort of tumbles down into an ungraceful heap onto the patchy grass beneath her. What she has just been told is not something she could have seen coming.

“He knew, didn't he?”

That is really the first thing Sinnafein manages to grasp after staring ahead for a long while, trying desperately to bring some order into her roiling emotions.

“That I was living here with you? I think so, yes.”

Tos'un, kneeling across from her, regards her warily as if she was a tower made of the frailest glass which might topple or splinter at any given moment if he so much as breathes too hard. In a way she feels it is almost unfair of her, to break down so after telling him time and time again that she understood, that she accepted his past. But this is about a good friend, someone who she cares about and never wants to see in pain and the conflicting emotions tear at her from all sides.

“I've invited him several times to come and visit us, but he always found an excuse”, Sinnafein remembers but then fights to focus on the present again. What she knows now is all in the past, nothing she can change. Hopefully there will be a way to salvage this, something she can do to help both of them, for she wants to lose neither.

“What happened yesterday?” she finally wants to know, wondering at the same time whether she is going to regret asking.

“We... after I... when Doumi introduced us he seemed so cool and in control. For a moment I was even afraid that he might be planning to hurt her. Or you. It was terrible, I could only stand there and feel helpless. He clearly remembered me but made no move to... “ Tos'un helplessly wraps his arms around himself as if that could steady him. “I could not figure out what he might want now, so I after I got Doumi back to you I gave in to my panic and ran to hide in the wood, where he found me later”, he finishes and lets his hands drop down again.

Sinnafein watches in silence as her husband restlessly clutches at the grass and gnaws on his lip while trying to find the right words. Somehow this seems to affect him much more than the horrible story of years long gone that he has told her before. In a way it is a relief to see him so unsure and off balance. It reassures her that she has not been living a lie, that Tos'un is indeed the caring person she remembers him to be and that her whole life might not be lying in shards a second from now.

“I spent some hours agonizing over how to tell you about the unforgivable things I did to that person you considered a good friend, all the time wondering why he had come now, after knowing I was here for several years. I thought he had some kind of sinister plan.”

“Did he?”

The tears and jumbled words from Jaellien this morning make her suspect that, even if there has been a plan it clearly has not worked like it was supposed to. Tos'un's shrug comes along with a deep, heartfelt sigh.

“In hindsight I must say that he probably didn't. I did not know that at the time though, so I was extremely wary when he came to confront me away from everybody else. He became very angry when I said that I would not lie to you about the past and told him that I had changed and was not like the master he had once known.”

When Tos'un falls silent and looks away after that Sinnafein knows there is more to come. She waits patiently. It takes a lot of patience sometimes to get him to speak plainly, but so far she has always found it was worth the time she had invested. This is something she needs to know.

“He asked me whether I would still... if I was sure that there would be no repercussions, whether I would still... take... rape him like I used to.”

Sinnafein bites her lips hard, knowing that if she interrupts him now there might never be another chance to get this admission out of her husband. The way he is already squirming makes it more than clear that this is something he does not want to talk about at all. He understands though, that to not tell her would be unforgivable in her eyes.

“When I did not answer he stuckhishanddownmytrousersandforcedmetoadmitit.”

“What?”

Tos'un cringes visibly.

“He pushed me up against a tree, held me there and made me come with his hand”, he spits out not quite as fast as before but still as quickly as possible, as if the words are to hot to keep them in his mouth for long. He watches tensely as Sinnafein eyes widen before she starts to frown.

“But why would he do that?”

Tos'un's surprised and pained expression tells her that he thinks it is rather obvious and would rather do anything else than explain it right now. But seeing that she is not berating him yet he seems to find the courage to go on.

“To prove that I have really not changed at all”, he finally admits with an amount of bitterness that Sinnafein finds rather startling.

“But you have”, she replies, honestly surprised that Tos'un would doubt it. “You slept in your shirt last night”, she suddenly remembers while considering what she has just learned and how Tos'un sometimes likes to leave out little details when he tells her things. “Take it off now please.”

He stares at first, unable to follow such a quick and seemingly random change of topic, but then he complies reluctantly, revealing the slender, toned body she has come to know so well over the years. Well enough to notice the slight swelling around his shoulder that is not supposed to be there and also the large, deep bruise, mostly hidden by the dark colour of his skin, only to be revealed upon close inspection. It must have taken a lot of force to produce something like that.

“Did Jaellien hurt you?”

“That is nothing. It doesn't matter”, Tos'un tries to evade immediately, but Sinnafein is already very familiar with that tactic of his.

“I think it does”, she only counters evenly. “Did he?”

“As I said, he pushed me against a tree and held me there.”

“And you think you deserved it.”

“Well, it was humiliating, to be sure, but in a way I almost liked it. It made me feel alive, as if I was standing on a thin ridge balancing over a chasm, even though it was painful it was also... exciting”, Tos'un forces out, still very unwilling to talk about this. “I probably did deserve it too. The pain.”

“You never told me you like that kind of thing.”

“You never showed any interest”, comes the clipped almost defensive reply. “Besides after trying it once with Hralien I decided that it would not be a good idea to bring issues of pain and control into our bed.”

“Hralien?!”

“That was more than twenty years ago”, Tos'un amends, secretly relieved that Sinnafein is not concentrating on his shoulder any more. “But it made me realize that I didn't want anything like that between us. It is one of the things which has always separated you from all the other women in my life. After I finally got used to the thought that you would not just grab me and push me down to fuck me on the nearest available surface no matter how much you might wish to, I did not want to look at you some day and be forced to remember some smirking priestess and her whip.”

The honest passion in Tos'un's words when he tells her this suddenly makes Sinnafein wonder. She still remembers some things he has told her long ago, about how harshly the drow women tend to treat their males.

“What would you do if you had to meet one of these other women today?”

He grimaces.

“Run as far and as fast as I could?”

“Exactly!”

“What, exactly?” Tos'un queries confusedly. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Well, that's exactly the opposite of what Jaellien has done. He has not run anywhere but he came to you instead.”

“I rather think that while he may have come to me, he probably came because of you”, Tos'un counters with a deep frown, distrusting the direction their conversation seems to be taking.

“No, no. I would have visited anyway. He must have known that. There was no danger of losing either my or Doumi's friendship”, Sinnafein says decisively. “He must have come because of you.”

“I don't see how that would change anything”, her husband insists stubbornly.

“But it does! I think maybe he really only wanted to talk.”

With the way Tos'un is frowning he clearly does not believe her.

“Sinnafein”, he says carefully, “while I still cannot figure out exactly why he may have come, I certainly don't think it was only to talk. I did terrible things to him. I used to take him out for hunting trips, but hunting in that case meant that I would order him to run, give him a few minutes head start and then proceed to hunt him down without mercy. Have you ever been hunted like that? Chased through the wilderness for days, with nothing to help you but the clothes on your back?”

He falls silent when Sinnafein only stares, deciding not to elaborate on how he also used to take special delight in surprising the utterly exhausted Jaellien by dropping down on him out of some tree to throw him onto the ground and proceed to fuck him viciously until he would scream in pain.

“I have not, as you very well know”, his wife retorts shortly, when he does not add anything more. “But with all the things I have been telling him about you over the years, he must have realized by now that you have honestly tried to make amends, that you are not who you were back then.”

“But who I am now does not change the past. Would you really want to just talk to someone who treated you like I did him? Hells, he was so furious yesterday that I almost expected him to attack me there and then and damn all consequences.”

“Well, it was a very emotional moment, don't you think? He said to me this morning that it simply overwhelmed him.” She stops and frowns mostly to herself now. “Of course that does not quite excuse him practically raping you.”

Now it is Tos'un's turn to stare.

“He didn't!”

“But you said...”

“I never told him to stop.”

“But...”

“And I...”, Tos'un bites his lip, clearly unsure whether he should say what he is about to say, but then he does continue. “I didn't want him to either. Not really.”

In the long moments of silence that follow Tos'un can only watch his wife thinking furiously as she tries her best to understand all that he has just implied. To have to watch her work through it is agonizing, but he loves her all the more for doing it. Nobody else has ever spent such a determined effort on trying to listen and understand him. Nobody else has ever cared enough. And he is terrified of losing that, of losing her. So to simply sit and watch her draw conclusions now without interfering is pure agony for him, but there is no other way if he wants to award her the respect she deserves, the trust that she will indeed stand by him as she promised.

“So, you do still desire him?” she asks eventually. “You welcome the pain? Both receiving and giving it?”

“I've never missed it with you”, Tos'un quickly focuses on the least complicated one of her uncomfortable questions.

“But it is something you would take if you were free to do so? You feel you need that?”

“I... maybe if... not often, but... probably?” Tos'un's voice sounds so very small when he says that, fingers clutching his own knees as if his life depended on holding on. It will surely cause some more bruises. “I'm sorry to fail you so”, he assures her almost desperately. “I'm quite sure it is not something that comes naturally to you and I would never demand that you try only for my sake. I am content with the way things are right now. There is no need to change anything.”

Sinnafein lets out a soft, thoughtful hum, surprised at how calm she suddenly feels after hearing such a confession. Even though she does not quite know how to deal with it yet. Maybe it is something she has always secretly suspected, knowing the way her husband was raised and spent a good part of his life.

“You know”, she says. “It is probably for the best that we never tried that together, for I feel that even though I might have been curious enough to make the attempt for your sake I don't think I actually have the taste for it.”

The pure relief on Tos'un's face tells her that she is moving in the right direction.

“I would never be able to put something like that on you and relish it”, she says and reaches out to lightly touch the discolored mark on his shoulder, not surprised when he takes the opportunity to crawl closer and move fully into her arms. Sinnafein holds him close and feels his arms sneak around her waist, while he hides his face in the crook of her neck, breath fast and shallow. He probably needs the reassurance just as badly as she herself does. Has she ever truly known him then, this person she has pledged her life to? It is not that she did not know, at least in theory, that he has murdered and committed some rather ghastly deeds. It is just that somehow knowing the theory does not compare to the actual realization. And yet she also feels love, as strong as ever. She hopes it will be enough. They spend a long time like that, merely holding onto each other, until Sinnafein feels her leg beginning to cramp under her.

“You realize that we can not just ignore this situation?” she finally forces herself to say, knowing Tos'un would rather go on in silence and ignore it all forever if she would let him. “I will need some more time on my own, to work through it and come to terms with all you have told me, but I will not abandon you, do you understand? I meant the vows I made to you and will not go back on them now.”

She can feel Tos'un tremble against her.

“Thank you”, he whispers into her neck. “I'm sorry that I can not be as good a person as you deserve. I'm sorry that I disappointed you like this.”

Sinnafein starts as something warm suddenly runs down her back. Could it be? She has never in all the years they have spent together witnessed Tos'un cry. But he is crying now, big, wet tears that run down his cheeks in eery silence. She sees them fall as she carefully takes his head into her hands to draw him up, so they are face to face. Before she knows it her own eyes have filled up too and the image blurs.

“I'm sorry”, Tos'un repeats insistently. “I love you and would give my life for you and Doumi. If I could have chosen, I would never have wanted you to witness that side of me.”

“Ah”, Sinnafein sighs deeply, not quite able to chase away the feeling of regret yet as she leans her forehead against his and closes her eyes. It seems ignorance really is bliss after all. “But you do try”, she concedes. “You have always tried hard and that is really all I can ask of you.”

And it is, for Tos'un can do just as little to change his past as she herself can. She will be damned though before she lets something like that stand in the way of her present day happiness! It will be a huge and probably painful effort, but Sinnafein is determined to make this work despite all obstacles life presents her with. The only question is: Will Jaellien see it the same way?


	3. Future

**#Future#**

“This is madness”, Tos'un grumbles behind her, not for the first time.

If the matter wasn't so serious Sinnafein would laugh at the way he is almost pouting as he follows her reluctantly through the lively streets of Silverymoon. His dark skin and stark white hair garner more attention than she is used to receiving here, but so far nobody has done more than watch them curiously.

“Just promise me you will stay where I leave you.”

“I already did. About a hundred times.”

“Well, you're not the only one who is nervous about this.”

“Because it is not going to work!”

Also something which her husband has been repeating almost constantly, but his insistence only makes her more determined. If he was truly expecting her plan to fail, then he would not be arguing against it so persistently. That he does merely shows her how afraid he is underneath all the protesting. But he has not yet refused outright to go along with it all. While he seems to think that Jaellien would actively try to attack him she does not really expect anything like that to happen. If her friend had wanted to seriously harm any of them he would have done something about it long ago. And she still does see Jaellien as a friend, someone who deserves her trust and has never done anything to threaten her or her daughter. She is aware though that Tos'un's feelings are a lot more complicated than her own when it comes to the mage. It is only to be expected after what has taken place in the past. That he would still feel drawn to the blonde has at first disturbed her greatly, but in a way she has also come to see it as a sign of hope, even though she cannot guess what may come of it.

Sinnafein leaves her husband sitting at a table in the back of a tavern, hoping against all appearances that she is not trying to facilitate disaster by doing what she is about to do. Curiously she is thinking of her daughter, presently left at home in the Moonwood, as she walks toward Jaellien's modest house. In a way she is doing this for Doum'wielle too, because she wants her to be able to live in a world that still holds hope. But to provide that she must hold onto hope herself, hope that reconciliation is still possible even after so much hurt and pain has passed between her husband of more than nineteen years and the friend she has only come to care for during the past decade.

She has to make a conscious effort to still her shaking hands as she knocks on the unassuming blue door with the faded, flaking paint, like she has done so many times before. What do I do if he isn't at home, she wonders fleetingly, but gets no chance to consider it further, because the light steps that are coming towards her from the inside make it clear that Jaellien must be there.

The mage stills instantly when he sees who has come to call on him today. He is wearing some old, frayed robe in faded brown, which means he must have been working on something potentially messy. Or maybe he has just not had the energy to go out in the last days, as the unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes seem to suggest.

“I'm alone”, Sinnafein says, feeling the odd need to reassure him of that, but not questioning it for now. A second later she is glad that she did, because he seems to relax at least a small fraction.

“Tos'un told you”, her friend says flatly, making no move to unblock the door for her. He pronounces the name the way she has only ever heard her husband and Drizzt Do'Urden do, with a sibilant hiss wound around the s' in the middle of it, that she herself could never get quite right, even after years of trying. Sinnafein decides to ignore that disconcerting little detail for now.

“After the way you left me standing there you could hardly expect me to not press him for answers.”

Jaellien sighs. He sounds terribly tired, but finally steps back to let her move past the threshold.

“No”, he says. “I guess not.”

The blonde busies himself with putting a pitcher of cold water and two glasses on the round table in the middle of his spacious kitchen. At least it is spacious compared to his other rooms. After he runs out of things to do though, he just sits across from Sinnafein, staring at her sullenly. She waits.

“Well?” he says eventually. “Are you going to reproach me for not telling you earlier?”

“Of course not!”, she cries, surprised. “I'm not here to accuse you of anything. It was hard enough to get the whole story out of my husband, who had more reason than you to tell me.”

“He did?”

“We have always said we would not to lie to each other”, she says and notes the very slight cringe that follows her words. “I know that this is very hard for you”, Sinnafein tries to reassure Jaellien. “If I'm honest, I'm not sure I can ever really understand what you must be experiencing right now, because sometimes I still have trouble myself to identify my feelings in this, although I have spent so much time think about it during the last two months that sometimes it seemed as if there was hardly space for anything else in my head.”

He looks at her steadily then, eyes like pools of dark, green water with hardly a ripple to be seen.

“How much... detail did he give you?”

“Not very much”, Sinnafein shakes her head. “Enough. I did not want to intrude too deeply, because it felt too private.”

She spends a second considering.

“Is there anything in particular you want me to know? I will listen to you as I have listened to Tos'un.”

For a long moment Jaellien looks down on the table, not answering.

“Did... did he tell you how I used to slip into his bed most nights, because Donnia didn't want me and basically became jealous any time Ad'non even looked in my direction and Kaer'lic was usually too moody to endure my presence for long? Sometimes he would just let me sleep...”

“No”, Sinnafein says quietly when the other's voice dies away. “He did not tell me that.”

“In that way I was glad when he came to join the other three, because I did not have to sleep on the cold floor any more.”

A strange, heavy weight is wrapping around her chest, when she tries to imagine what Jaellien's life must have been like back then.

“Why did you decide to come to the Moonwood Li?”

“You mean, why did I decide not to come earlier?”

“Maybe that too.”

“In a way it was not even a decision in the sense that I would consciously decide not to go. I just could not bring myself to even think about going anywhere near Tos'un. I was afraid I would still fear him like I used to, that all I had achieved in the meantime would suddenly, miraculously become meaningless. I mean, I knew that it wouldn't, but I was afraid nonetheless. It is complicated.”

“I have time. You can go as slow as you like.”

Jaellien's lips actually quirk in the tiny beginnings of a wry grin when she says that, but the moment is short lived.

“Maybe in the end I came because I just wanted to believe that what you were telling me was true.”

He shrugs uncertainly, his fingertips restlessly tracing the rim of his still full glass.

“Tos'un appears to be a genuinely likeable, even honourable person whenever you and Doumi are talking about him.”

It almost sounds like an accusation.

“He is, but that is the result of a lot of hard work and learning from both of us. I take it that image was not something you could reconcile with the man you knew?”

The grimace on Jaellien's face is a strange mix of beginning anger and deep sadness.

“Well, while he did have his moments they were certainly few and far between.”

The mage rubs his face in a tired gesture, almost as if he wants to erase the strange expression that has taken hold of his features.

“It was easier when I could just hate him as someone who I had met in the past, but after all those years of listening to you talking about this stranger, who I was sure was known to me but whom I could barely recognize from your tales, maybe I finally thought I should go see for myself. I could never comprehend how someone who could be as cruel as the master I remembered would manage to produce a child as adorable as Doum'wielle. After watching them together though I can see that he probably would do anything to make her happy.”

“He would, yes. I'm sure of it.”

“It is a side of him I had never really witnessed though. I told him that he did not deserve your love”, Jaellien admits, sounding pained.

“While I can see why you might say that, it is my life, my choice and therefore not for you to judge or decide”, Sinnafein answers evenly, trying very hard to keep all misgivings out of her voice, for this is something she has indeed heard before. Sometimes she grows tired of defending her choices to people who know nothing of her reasons. But as she reminds herself, Jaellien does know quite a lot about her and has not actually meant it the way most other people did when they posed this particular claim to her.

“I know”, he says immediately, confirming her thoughts. “I do not mean to judge you. You know I have never tried to influence you in this. My intention when I confronted Tos'un in the woods was just to talk to him, to get a better feel for the way a meeting over supper might go and to decide whether it would be a good idea to come at all that night.” He sighs despondently. “I found that my fear had finally gone, but I didn't expect that I would instead be so furious upon seeing him that I would simply snap like that. When he refused to keep his silence towards you concerning our past I just lost all reason. I didn't want you to know, to think of me as weak, so I was desperate to keep him from talking to you. The way I chose to keep him silent was not ideal though. I'm not proud of the way I basically molested him, believe me.”

Jaellien gives her a self-deprecating smile.

“I kind of spent the last weeks fearing he would suddenly turn up here to gut me for what I did.”

“Weeeell, I don't think you'll have to expect anything like that”, Sinnafein says slowly, thinking back on how hard it was to convince Tos'un to come here at all, let alone go anywhere near Jaellien. “As far as I could glean he somehow enjoyed it in a strange, twisted way, although after seeing the spectacular bruise you left I still have no idea how that might have come to pass. I would have been screaming bloody murder in his place.”

When Jaellien just frowns darkly and mutely stares down at the table after she told him that, Sinnafein fears that even her small attempt at humour might have been seriously misplaced at this point in their talk.

“He might also have said something about deserving it”, she adds cautiously, which at least gets more of a reaction.

“He does”, Jaellien growls before he suddenly snatches his glass and throws it at the wall, where it shatters spectacularly, water and glittering shards scattering everywhere. “I just never would have expected him to admit it”, he grounds out, still staring at the wet wall.

It takes a few deep breaths until he faces Sinnafein again. Hot anger is burning in his eyes now. Somehow her idea to bring the two of them together again seemed better when she was still only dealing with the grim reserve she usually gets from Tos'un instead of this explosive fury she just witnessed. But she has dragged him here now, so she will simply have to find a way to go forward.

“Do you still want to talk to him?” she asks, watching concernedly how Jaellien instantly grips the table and goes pale.

“He is here?!”

“I convinced him to come and left him to wait before I went to you, but I can tell him to leave if you want that”, Sinnafein hastens to explain. “I won't make you do anything you don't agree to. Whether you decide to meet him or whether you never want to see him again I will heed your wishes. I promise! I know sometimes wounds can be too deep to heal or overcome. It is entirely up to you.”

She pauses unsure if she should continue, but then she pushes on.

“It was just... After you decided on your own to try it once already I thought that maybe I could help. Even if the first try appears to have been... unsuccessful it does not mean everything is lost. Maybe you just need a different approach. You are precious to me and to see you suffer like this breaks my heart.”

At that Jaellien seems to draw back into himself, all expression disappearing from his face. It is a truly frightening sight, as if all personality was gone from one moment to another. Sinnafein has never seen her friend like this and she wonders uncomfortably whether he might not be more broken than she has suspected.

“Give me a moment to consider”, he mumbles distractedly before he abruptly gets up and leaves her alone in the room, still wondering if she is doing the right thing. As she slowly sips her own water Sinnafein does her best to remain calm and wait. But it is hard. So hard. She cannot help but think that maybe it would have been better to do things differently, maybe she should have done something else, said something else, something more. What is done is done though and she cannot change anything now.

It is a relief to see that, when he comes back after what to her seems like hours, Jaellien sports an expression which is unhappy but at least appears natural and gives her something to go on other than that frightening blankness.

“I would see Tos'un”, he says and lapses back into silence.

Sinnafein nods cautiously, unsure if this is a good sign.

“You said you convinced him”, Jaellien looks at her intently, “does that mean he did not want to come?”

“Not really”, she admits cautiously. “He kept saying that you would not want to speak to him anyway, that you never wanted that.”

“Well, just now I did not”, the mage grimaces. “At least at first. But since you have both come, maybe we can at least try. It would be stupid to come all this way just to accomplish nothing without even making an attempt.”

Sinnafein smiles, still a little uncertain if this is the right way to go about it, but unwilling to stop at this point, when both men have been moving tentatively towards what she deems would be a starting point at least.

“Shall I go get him now?”

“In a moment.”

Jaellien sighs and fixes her with a searching gaze.

“I just want to know what you are expecting from this. If you think we will be able to just discuss everything calmly and reconcile at the end, then I must warn you, that you will most probably be very disappointed. I do not think something like that is even possible at this time. Maybe it will never be.”

“No”, Sinnafein shakes her head. “I'm aware that it is going to be an uphill battle, but I would not try to involve myself if I did not think that it is important for both of you to try and work through the past. But if you feel it's not the right time then I would accept that too. As I said I would understand if you did not want to see him. “

“There is never going to be a right time for something like that”, Jaellien says darkly, “but I said I would see him, so you better go get him, before I change my mind. I just wanted you to be aware that you might not like what happens when we meet.”

“I know.”

There is nothing more to say after that. Before she steps out of the door though, Jaellien stops her again.

“Whatever you are going to hear, please try to keep in mind that I only want the best for you. I have no intention of doing you harm.”

What about Tos'un, she wants to ask, but does not. Her husband can usually take care of himself quite well and it seems unfair to try and put restrictions on her friend already when she is the one pushing them into this.

As she arrives back at the tavern, Sinnafein can see that her husband has managed to acquire some unexpected company. A delicate, black haired Moon elf with large amber eyes who Sinnafein has never met before sits next to him over a glass of wine. Going by his attire he could be a wizard like Jaellien, even though he seems a little young for that, but maybe that is only because of his short stature.

The tense expression Tos'un is wearing and the fact that his wine is still untouched while his companion has only about a third of his own left tells her that he is deeply unhappy about having to endure the current conversation. She absently notes that the other elf is unusually stunning and wonders why he would choose to bother Tos'un in a nearly empty room like this. The monosyllabic answers he receives time and again do not seem to deter him at all during the minute Sinnafein watches them discreetly before she decides to free Tos'un from his misery.

The relief in his eyes as she steps up to his table is short lived but pronounced.

“This is my wife”, Tos'un informs his companion shortly without giving a name. “We are going to leave now.”

The grin that abrupt and unbelievably rude announcement garners from the Moon elf is so full of mischief that Sinnafein can only stare in astonishment.

“Honoured to make your acquaintance my Lady.”

The bright amber eyes sparkle at her over the rim of a wineglass as the strange elf quickly tosses back the remaining contents and gets up still grinning to leave without further notice.

“You attract the most peculiar people”, she remarks watching the long, black hair sway sharply to the left as the stranger steps out into the street and turns to go on his way. “What was his name?”

Tos'un grimaces.

“He never told me, but he was certainly having fun at my expense.”

Apparently that is all the explanation she is going to get out of him right now, which is fine with her seeing that they have more pressing things to consider anyway.

“Jaellien said he would see you.”

“You make it sound like he is granting me an audience.”

Sinnafein throws him an exasperated look.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to be like that”, Tos'un apologizes quickly. “The boy just frayed my nerves.”

He eyes the wine for a moment as if it has suddenly gained a heretofore unimagined attractiveness, but pulls himself away without drinking anything.

“What did he say?”

“Not very much really”, Sinnafein shrugs uncertainly as they step through the door. “He is still angry. Please be considerate.”

Tos'un gives her a sideways glance at that.

“Do you still want to come?” he asks tentatively. “I could go alone.”

It sounds as if he is not quite sure which of the two he would presently prefer.

“No”, she sighs. “I will come. I can leave later if you both feel I need to go. Once I am reasonably sure that things are not going to get out of hand.”

Tos'un nods and seems to lose all will to communicate anything else after that, following her to Jaellien's house wrapped in a tense, grim silence that sets her teeth on the edge. He remains standing passively at her back when she knocks on the blue door for the second time today. Jaellien appears even more tired when he opens now than he did a short while ago. His gaze immediately shoots over her shoulder to Tos'un, who merely gives a tiny nod in greeting, face inscrutable. Only the red eyes shift constantly, betraying a part of the tension he must be feeling. They follow silently as Jaellien leads them back to the kitchen. Not much has changed there Sinnafein notes. The shards of glass are still decorating the ground below a wet patch on the wall and her own empty glass is sitting on the table just where she has left it.

“You don't think this is a good idea”, Jaellien says tensely, speaking only in Tos'un's direction before they are even seated.

Sinnafein watches her husband press his lips together into a thin, stubborn line before he answers.

“You are very angry.”

He sounds neither hostile nor condescending, but somehow resigned.

“Well, I don't think that is going to change any time soon”, Jaellien snaps sharply.

“I did not expect it to”, Tos'un answers defensively, his hands clamping around the back of a chair without making a move to sit down on it. Both men are glaring at each other now and Sinnafein feels as if everything is already slipping through her fingers, deteriorating at a dangerously fast rate.

“Will you at least sit before you start anything?” she implores them, thinking for a short frightening second that they will just ignore her and continue on this spiraling path towards destruction, but then at last they do break off their hostile staring and move to do as she has suggested.

Just when they are ready to begin again though, a knock sounds from the door startling all three of them. Jaellien stands with a frown.

“Please excuse me”, he mutters and goes to see who has interrupted them so unexpectedly.

The is no sound for a moment after he opens.

Then: “How did you know?”

“I've been watching the roads.”

Sinnafein feels more than sees her husband turn sharply as the second voice answers. She herself can't quite place it, but Tos'un is already scowling darkly when she looks back at him.

“I saw them enter just now. Do you want me to stay?” the second voice continues calmly.

A long pause follows.

“Yes.”

When he comes back into the kitchen Jaellien is followed by the same black haired stranger who Sinnafein has already met once before today. No wonder she has not recognized his voice. She has heard it only fleetingly after all. It surprises her though how offended her husband looks as he regards him with a dark look.

“So is that how it is?” Tos'un suddenly states more than asks. “You are just going to play stupid games with me? Sinnafein almost had me convinced that it would not be so.”

He is already rising as he speaks.

“I guess I will just have to leave then.”

“Sit!” the stranger interrupts him coldly startling Tos'un so much with his forceful command that he actually complies. Maybe there was some magic behind it too, because Tos'un's expression has turned rather mulish all over sudden. Sinnafein does not know what to make of this yet, but decides to stay silent for now, since her husband does not protest further.

“I came to see you without any knowledge or prompting on Jaellien's part”, the black haired elf explains calmly. “Because I wanted to have a chance of gauging your intentions before you came here.”

“But you obviously did know we would be coming here and you actually had the nerve to offer me drugged wine!” Tos'un hisses, still offended, which surprisingly does nothing more than produce an increasingly astonished look on Jaellien's and a serene smile on the stranger's face.

“I've known _about_ you for a comparatively long time”, the boy counters. “So the reason for your visit here was pretty much obvious. I just wanted to know for myself, if you would present a danger. You really don't have to act as if I did you some grievous harm. It's not like I actually expected you to drink the wine if you did not wish to”, he says very matter of factly and sits down on the only free chair next to a frowning Jaellien. Somehow the picture of the mischievous but essentially harmless, chattering youth from before does not match with his behaviour any more Sinnafein thinks, an edge of worry creeping in. She has never expected something like this to happen.

Tos'un's answer consists of nothing more than the gritting of his teeth. He has already guessed that this boy is more dangerous than he seems at first glance. He cannot quite decide though if Jaellien is as surprised by his appearance as he seems right now or if this is all a farce staged to lure him into compliance. The fact that he has not even noticed the boy following them here is rather unsettling in any case.

“This is Laylien”, the blond mage says now, still sounding rather bewildered. “A... friend.”

Or maybe something more than that Tos'un thinks watching the way Jaellien's eyes linger on the boy's neck and lips in a strange sideways glance when he introduces him. The pinch of partly jealous, possessive irritation he feels at that does not surprise him any more, but it adds to his general dismay. This is clearly going to be an excruciating experience. Not that he has expected anything less.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches Sinnafein contemplate the newcomer. She still appears puzzled, as if unable to place him, but who knows, maybe his presence will even be beneficial. He seems calm and reasonably contained so he might at least make a good mediator. Of course he could also just have come to sit back and enjoy the show of Jaellien going for his throat.

“So”, Tos'un starts deciding that there is nothing to be gained by waiting around any longer. “What would you have me say then?”

“Maybe actually using my name when you speak to me would be a good start”, Jaellien replies caustically.

For a moment Tos'un is taken aback, because he realizes only now that he has indeed never done that, even after being formally introduced to the blonde two months ago.

“My apologies”, he says only a little stiffly. “I did not notice.”

The drow can see fresh anger flaming in Jaellien's green eyes and inwardly braces himself for a new attack.

“So is that generally a habit of yours?” the mage inquires icily. “To not award people the respect the deserve?”

“No.”

“I see. So it's only me then”, Jaellien remarks with a voice that would freeze even hell's fires. “How nice. I guess old habits die hard, don't they?”

He has gone and flung himself straight into that trap, Tos'un realizes. But anything he could have said would have been wrong, so it probably does not matter. He senses Sinnafein fidget next to him and wishes suddenly that she would just leave. This kind of verbal warfare is not something he wants his wife to witness. It mostly concerns things she has never had any part in anyway. To keep her here was to a large part born of his desire to not have to face this alone, but he realizes now how selfish he has been. It will only hurt her to watch them tear into each other. And to Tos'un it is a foregone conclusion that it will indeed come to that. They are both too angry and tense to go about it any other way.

“Sinnafein”, he says, turning to her abruptly. “I think you should leave.”

She frowns.

“But I don't think...”

“As much as it pains me to say that”, Jaellien cuts across the first openings of her protest, “I think Tos'un is right.”

“You really expect me to leave when it looks as if you're going to rip each other apart any second?” she demands, only to receive emphatic nods from both of them.

“What about him?” she points at Laylien who is sitting very still, watching all of them intently. His expression does not give any clues as to what he might be thinking.

“He knows enough about the circumstances, but is mostly impartial in this and will not interfere on my behalf”, Jaellien claims and the boy gives a solemn nod, but does not say anything further.

Tos'un suppresses the urge to raise his eyebrows at that, because he seriously doubts the mage's statement, but he does not wish Sinnafein to remain, so he will put up with the boy for the time being. He is not alone with his doubts though.

“You really expect me to believe that?” his wife asks, resolutely crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“It does not matter in any case”, Tos'un tells her, forcing all traces of doubt from his voice and expression. “I am asking you to trust me in this. Nothing terrible is going to happen.”

“I am not sure this is a good idea.”

“It will be better this way nonetheless”, Jaellien says. “I swear I won't cause him any permanent harm, but this does not really concern you. It is all in the past and not for you to deal with. To stay now will only be hurtful for you.”

Tos'un suppresses his shiver at the words, because he is well aware that there are a lot of things which will not incapacitate him or disfigure him permanently, but will still feel extremely painful when done to him. Suddenly he wishes that he could leave as well.

It is hard to go on when he is watching the way the worries wash so unguardedly through his wife's expressive eyes, but Tos'un manages somehow.

“Please go back to the tavern”, he says. “I promise I will come to find you there tomorrow at the latest.”

He can see how hard she has to fight with herself to accept this. It would take no more than one word or even a look of doubt from his side and she would refuse to leave him, but Tos'un is still convinced that it will be better this way. He has brought this upon himself and now he will have to deal with it. That he can accept as long as it won't hurt Sinnafein more than it already has. He only allows himself a single longing look at her back when she finally leaves, shoulders slumped with defeat, anxiously clutching his shoulders in a last farewell before she turns towards the door. But she does still trust him enough to do it. At least there is still that.

“Have you nothing left to say now that she is gone?” Jaellien inquires viciously after he has come back from the door and sat down to watch Tos'un in silence for some time.

“What do you want me to say?” the drow asks back. “That I am sorry, that I regret everything? You already know it would only be half true anyway.”

“I doubt it would even be that much.”

Tos'un only gives him a dark look and shrugs, unwilling to discuss this further. It is not a topic he particularly likes to think about, because it makes him feel inadequate. He knows he should make amends and he is determined to follow through on anything Jaellien might demand from him concerning that, but he still mostly lacks the guilt he thinks he should be experiencing. He feels trapped again, when he thinks about the things he will probably have to do. A sensation he has come to know only too well during the last weeks, but he has resolved that he should do this despite his misgivings. Maybe true remorse will come to him in time. He must at least try.

“Regardless of any feelings of remorse which might or might not exist on my side, I do realize that I should offer something to compensate you for your experiences at my... our hands” he says, “and I am willing to do so. Otherwise I would not have come. The question is though: What do you want from me?” Tos'un asks then, the one burning question which he has so far been unable to solve by himself. He is relieved to hear his voice still sounding calm and collected, although he wants nothing more than to jump up and run away.

“What do you think I want?” Jaellien merely answers him with a question of his own, bowing further over the table, almost closing the distance between them. Tos'un shrugs sharply in frustration, arms wide and fingers spread out for a moment, before he splays them flatly on the table.

“Revenge? To hurt me, rape me?” he says. “How would I know!? So far you have only been evasive and I have no wish to play guessing games with you.”

Jaellien suddenly smiles, a shark's smile. Tos'un has never seen him look so dangerous before. Maybe he has underestimated the level of viciousness of which Jaellien is capable nowadays.

“And what if that is what I want?” the mage asks softly, leaning a tiny bit closer still. That quiet fury is back in his eyes. Tos'un wonders if he might come to fear it and decides that he probably will. In coming here with Sinnafein he has made himself into a lamb fit for slaughter, but he has no other way left to deal with this if he wants to keep his life the way it is. “What if I told you now that I expect you to provide me with seven years of service, just like you took from me without ever asking?”

Tos'un stares down to see his unfeeling fingers curled around the edge of the table, the blood mostly gone from them because his grip is so desperately hard.

“Then I would call you unfair”, he says in what is almost a whisper, not really daring to look up, because he is afraid of what he could see then. “Because it was never me alone. I wasn't even there for all of it.”

A harsh laugh follows his statement.

“And why should I care about what _you_ think is fair?”

Real fear is starting to tie a tight band around Tos'un's throat and chest until he feels as if someone is suffocating him, because there is no good answer he can give to that. He cannot hide behind Sinnafein this time. To do so would only make him appear like a coward.

“I don't know”, he presses out, still refusing to look up.

“A good thing I'm not going to demand that then, isn't it?” Jaellien informs him coldly.

Tos'un's gaze snaps upwards now with a wordless hiss of helpless anger.

“So you are not going to tell me anything?” he grits out between bared teeth.

“How could I tell you what I don't even know myself?!” Jaellien suddenly yells at the drow, who only grips the edge of the table harder to keep himself from flinching back. “When I decided to come to the Moonwood I was going to... I don't know... talk to you. I thought that after all these years I should be capable of facing you without fear”, the blond elf continues then, somewhat more calmly. “And I was”, he says. “But there was more too. There was still so much... need. More than I had ever realized I felt before. It should not have surprised me so, but it did. Back then you were the only one who ever touched me with any kind of... tender... of something that even remotely resembled friendliness.” Jaellien looks as if he had to force out the last word. “I was never quite aware at the time of how dependent on you that made me, how much I hoped, lived and waited for those fleeting moments. But I am aware now and then, when I saw you again, all I could think about was how it would feel to touch you now and I couldn't stop and that made me furious. It still does!”

Jaellien suddenly gets up and starts moving around, pacing back and forth through the kitchen when his emotions become too violent to be contained any longer. Tos'un watches him like one would watch a dangerous animal that has suddenly appeared in ones bedroom without warning. He is only now starting to see how little this actually has to do with him and how of it much stems from Jaellien himself.

“It drives me mad!” the mage hisses angrily. “I do not want to need you! In any way. And yet, since the day I have set eyes on you again you have crept into my thoughts like a stubborn weed and refuse to be gone!”

He whirls around, grabbing Tos'un by the collar as he did two months ago in the woods. The drow is too surprised by the lightning fast attack to evade him properly as he is dragged off his chair by the taller mage.

“I thought that you would probably feel differently”, Jaellien hisses softly, the tip of his nose almost touching Tos'un's, who can only stare at him in speechless paralysis barely able to properly process what he is hearing. “I thought that you hated me for the way I treated you back there in the woods. That you wanted nothing to do with me. I had almost convinced myself that I should feel sorry for what I did to you, but then Sinnafein comes here today and tells me that you enjoyed it. Damn you!”

He pushes Tos'un away so violently that the slender drow collides with the wall before he can regain any kind of balance. By now Tos'un has realized though that he will achieve nothing by reasoning with the other. Jaellien's problems arise mostly from his own mind, something which Tos'un presently has no control over. To try and argue reasonably is clearly futile, so he simply lets go of all restraint and releases his own anger by kicking out high at the mage, hitting him in the chest, relieved in the certainty that at least this will not make everything worse. Jaellien clearly has not seen the attack coming and stumbles back with a pained cry of surprise. He starts to laugh soon after though. A short, high pitched, breathless giggle, which sends a cold shiver along Tos'un's spine. The feeling of being trapped is growing more acute with every passing second, which only makes him more angry.

“At least now I know that even though you might still lust after me, you seem to hate it just as much as I do”, Jaellien says with a strange tone of satisfaction laced with the ever present anger. “You would like all those things to stay quietly in the past, where they belong, don't you? So you won't have to deal with them anymore. And you don't want to be here, to be confronted by it all, because it doesn't fit into the neat little world you have built for yourself. Well I can tell you now, that's not going to work! You cannot run from your past.”

He is uncomfortably close to the truth with that.

“And you are happy about that? Well, good for you, light take you then!” Tos'un spits at him furiously, falling back on his native curses without even noticing it. “I will admit that I have wronged you, but don't think you can make me into a scapegoat for your own damned desires! Whip me, punish me, I don't care. If you demand it I will submit to it. Who knows I might even really find some enjoyment in that. You certainly will, but you do not get to blame me afterwards! Whatever you do now, it is entirely your own choice. I am not making you do anything. This is not even really about me, but about the warped feelings and fixations that exist only in your own head.”

They stare at each other, both panting with fury now.

“You want me to whip you? Very well then!” Jaellien hisses, apparently dismissing most of what has just been said to him and executes a complicated movement with his hand that has Tos'un tense in expectation of another attack, but when he next sees the whip appear in the mages hands he understands what the other intended.

“Fine!” he spits.

“No!”

The unexpected voice from the side has them both snap around simultaneously. Only now do they remember Laylien who is standing next to the table, still watching attentively.

“If you use that one on him now, you will most certainly kill him”, the slight elf says with almost uncaring calmness, pointing at the whip. “Choose something else.”

He is probably right, Tos'un decides after he takes a moment to really look at the instrument of torture Jaellien is still holding. He has already seen too many slaves in his hometown who died after being inexpertly whipped. He even killed a few himself while being taught how to wield a weapon like that. Therefore he is inwardly quite relieved when Jaellien throws the first whip at Laylien with a wordless growl and simply conjures another one, lighter and shorter this time, but with some barbed tips that will definitely hurt like all nine hells. Tos'un is just furious enough not to care about that. He is no stranger to pain.

Somehow he is not surprised when Jaellien merely leads him to a door opposite the kitchen, that has previously been hidden behind a curtain. Here he finds another room with a small cupboard and two simple chains, with cuffs hanging from the ceiling. They are even padded. Enough that they will not injure his wrists for all the good that will do him. Tos'un simply goes to stand underneath them and does nothing further, deciding that if Jaellien wants to play this game then they may just as well do it properly. Let us see if he still hates touching me so, the drow thinks darkly and gives Jaellien an openly challenging look, but he receives only an arrogant smile from the blonde.

“Laylien”, Jaellien says silkily to the elf standing unobtrusively behind him. “I would ask you to assist me, please.”

“My pleasure”, the boy murmurs and promptly passes him to step behind Tos'un.

“You know, this is turning out to be rather more enjoyable than I had anticipated”, he says and runs an appreciative hand along the drow's back as he lifts the shirt. Tos'un turns his head and glares, but he can't hide the way the small hairs on his neck suddenly stand on end at the touch. Laylien is unimpressed in any case. He abandons Tos'un's back and takes hold of his wrists instead to pull them up over his head in order to fasten the chains. He has to stretch himself quite a bit to do that, which is unusual, because he is even smaller than the drow, whose people are generally not as tall as their surface dwelling cousins.

“I've already been standing where you are now”, he informs Tos'un softly, leaning against the drow's back with a warm, almost comforting weight, “and it was an interesting experience, but watching you will also be interesting I think.”

The drow regards him warily out of the corner of his eyes, thinking that nobody who looks this harmless should have such an evil smile.

“Good for you”, he mutters mostly to himself.

“If you are beginning to have doubts now, then I regret to inform you that it is entirely too late to do anything about them”, Laylien only says dryly in answer and pulls out a sharp, slender blade which he uses to cut off Tos'un's shirt and other garments with efficient, practiced movements. The effect is mostly lost on the drow, whose thoughts are occupied by other things.

Laylien is considerate enough to tie up Tos'un's hair too, even though he also uses the opportunity to trace his fingertips languidly along the dark, pointed ears he reveals when he does that. Tos'un watches Jaellien watch them with an intense look and shivers. The blonde is leaning against a wall with impatience written all over his face, cradling the whip in the crook of one arm. Now that the heat of his anger is fading more and more Tos'un is slowly starting to wonder whether he might not have been a bit rash in agreeing to this. But as Laylien has just informed him it is much too late now to get out of it.

Jaellien is obviously serious in his intent, because he wastes no time in playing around. As soon as Laylien is finished with his task of removing any thread of clothing and steps back out of Tos'un's sight he walks up behind the cuffed drow and promptly delivers the first stroke without prior warning. He does not speak and the suddenness of it all leaves Tos'un stumbling, gasping helplessly from the instant pain. Jaellien does not stop to give him time to recover though and the second time he feels the barbed tips digging in his back the drow is no better prepared than the first. He finds time to be fleetingly glad between the rapid succession of increasingly painful strokes which follow, that Laylien has intervened on the choice of that whip, because the way this is going he really would have been dead quite soon.

Tos'un slowly starts to lose all sense of time while he takes the truly vicious beating. There is no talk but he knows he is screaming, even though he can't quite remember when he might have started. Screaming does not stop the harsh strokes. Neither does begging in any of the languages he tries and Tos'un tries quite a few until he can no longer remember the words. And still it does not stop. When everything besides the pain seems to have no meaning any more and he has long forgotten how to stand on his own feet, Tos'un is quite surprised to notice somebody stepping up to him. He can't really discern whose face he is seeing, because the tears in his eyes make everything blurry, but he guesses it must be Jaellien.

The other runs soft fingertips down his face, a sensation Tos'un can only feel in a strangely muted fashion, because the hot, screaming fire on his back distracts him too much. There really is no place for thought in his head right now, so he does not wonder about the lips descending on his own. His reaction to that is purely instinct as he obediently opens his mouth to the hard kiss. When he feels the fingernails scratching down harshly through the mess that currently makes up his back he jolts and tries to scream again, but his aching throat is too dry and produces nothing but a hoarse whimper that gets caught in the other's mouth. He is quite thankful to be able to let himself fall into a welcoming darkness.

When he wakes again the pain is almost bearable. Someone must have fed him a healing potion Tos'un surmises hazily. He can feel soft linens beneath his cheek and chest, because he is lying on his stomach. Nothing feels sticky so someone must have cleaned him up too. A quick mental inventory tells him that all pain is mostly centered on his back, so he probably remembers correctly when he thinks that Jaellien did not do anything else to him after that horrible whipping. At least he hopes so. What he has just experienced rivals even the worst of what he has ever had to endure under any priestesses whip. A slight tremor passes through his body as Tos'un remembers that seemingly unending, eternal pain. The thirst he also feels is almost an afterthought to everything else. He is almost sure that they never whipped Jaellien this harshly.

“Ah, awake again I see”, says a voice somewhere above his head. It sounds like Laylien.

“Hm”, Tos'un growls indistinctly, which is all the effort he currently wants to put into any conversation. It looks like it is not up to him to decide that though.

“Do you want some advice?”

“Hm.”

Even to open his eyes feels like too much of an effort. He hopes the healing potion will soon take care of that for he can still sense it working through his body, steadily mending the damage Jaellien has wrought.

“Do convince your wife that there is nothing to gain by another such meeting between the two of you. I will not always be there to save your life. And you must know as well as I do, that even with what I did he came damn close to killing you anyway. To offer yourself up like that was extremely stupid.”

“Hnm!”

As if Tos'un doesn't know that. At the sound of a door being opened he instinctively, convulsively grips the soft fabric he can still feel under his fingers. It is not a conscious reaction, but it tells him very clearly that he will bear scars from this and not only those on his body.

“He is awake?”

Jaellien.

“Yes”, Laylien says evenly but then adds more waspishly: “Not thanks to you though.”

“I already said I'm sorry.”

An angry sniff follows.

“I do not care in the slightest whether you are sorry or not”, Laylien retorts sharply, with more authority than Tos'un would have thought possible coming from someone so young. “I have to tell you though that it is neither healthy nor smart to fixate on your anger so much that you would kill him without even realizing it properly. Had I not stepped in you would have done exactly that, as you very well know! You let yourself be governed solely by your emotions.”

Tos'un cannot remember much towards the end, but it sounds like Laylien has saved his life. He does not quite know how he should feel about that.

“I'm sorry!” Jaellien repeats more insistently. “I never intended to go so far.”

“If you cannot control yourself then you should not wield a whip! It's that simple.”

Tos'un listens to the soft rustling of fabric as the slight elf gets up from where he had been sitting next to the bed.

“Can I at least trust you to keep him alive until morning so we can get him back to his wife in one piece?”

“Yes”, comes the short and sullen reply from Jaellien.

“Good”, Laylien says just as shortly. “I will see you in the morning then.”

And just like that he is going. Tos'un cannot help the wave of instant panic he feels when he hears the door close behind the boy, leaving him with only Jaellien in the room. He listens intently to the light steps as they move further away from him, to how they inevitably reach the main door and then to that door closing. He feels cold despite the blanket which has been draped over his body.

“Are you thirsty?”

Tos'un does not quite know how he should answer this question. On one hand he is certainly thirsty, but on the other hand he does not expect Jaellien to actually give him something to drink should he admit to it. When he does not answer for too long the mage draws his own conclusions anyway.

“So you are thirsty”, he says. “Do you still remember how you used to make me beg for scraps from the table?”

Although he has expected something like this Tos'un feels an almost unbearable exhaustion descending on him at the last sentence. He closes his eyes and turns his face down into the bedsheets wondering if he really deserves this. The sound of a glass being put down on the nightstand next to him is enough to startle Tos'un into looking up. Warily he regards Jaellien who is standing next to the bed, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Drink”, the blonde says. His tone is surprisingly neutral.

For a moment Tos'un hesitates, wondering if the water might be drugged, but then he decides that if Jaellien wants to drug him the mage could just as well go ahead and simply force something down his throat. He is too weak to resist right now so it would not make a difference in the end. Tos'un sits up a little, his whole body vehemently protesting the movement, and drinks. The water soothes his sore throat wonderfully and not only that, from the slight increase in strength he feels with every swallow Tos'un suspects that the water has indeed been laced with something, just not in the way he feared.

“Thank you.”

When Jaellien only takes the glass from him with a dark look Tos'un just barely contains his flinch, an automatic reaction he has learned to control since he was a child, but has never managed to suppress entirely. He had almost thought he had banished it forever during the last few decades, but it seems the whipping has brought out old reactions in him. It is not even fully dusk yet, he thinks as he watches the window out of the corner of his eye. This is going to be a long night.

“I really did not mean to kill you”, the mage says.

“Well, and apparently you didn't.”

Even though you did give it a very good try, Tos'un thinks and knows the other will be able to read his thoughts from the way his lips are thinning when he says it. He has been stupid to agree to any of this, Laylien was right about that. While he would do a great many things to make his wife happy, Tos'un is very much sure that she would never demand that he actually die over something like this. Unfortunately what he has just gone through does not necessarily mean he will be free of the other in the future. He has promised repayment after all. And he knows that he has much to answer for.

“I think I understand now how you feel though”, Jaellien says and suddenly Tos'un's blood runs cold. “I do not regret it, although I know it was wrong, just like you will never regret what you did to me, even though you are aware now of how wrong it was.”

What can one say to that, Tos'un wonders, startled to find that it might actually be true. He merely watches Jaellien stare down at him for a while trying to determine what it might mean for him.

“I did try”, Tos'un says. “And I would act differently today. But I think those years are too far back in the past for me to change the way I feel about them. Apparently you cannot quite do it either, since you still seem... angry”, he finally concludes.

“Not as much now”, Jaellien answers thoughtfully and the drow wonders if his apparent calm is real or merely a thin veneer. “Maybe your people are right when they say that revenge is a dish which is best served cold.”

Jaellien slowly draws a single finger along the bared upper part of his back when he says this and Tos'un knows that while he could certainly go and accuse the blonde publicly of trying to kill him, that he even has the scars to prove it now, Jaellien could counter that claim with his own scars and with an infinite number of tales full of cruelty which would eventually wear down even the best intentions into nothing. The mage could do it without having to tell even a single lie. Doum'wielle would be devastated. She would never trust him again.

Because he knows all this Tos'un does not make a sound when Jaellien pulls the blanket away from his shoulders and throws it to the side. He quickly turns around and lies on his still raw back even though it hurts, so he will at least see what is going to happen.

“I hate that I would still want to touch you even after all these years, after everything you did to me”, Jaellien informs him as he sheds his robe with one quick movement and crawls onto the bed until he kneels over the drow. On his face is a strange mix of that steady rage Tos'un already knows and of the need Jaellien himself abhors so much. This is not very surprising in the light of what he has discovered today, but Tos'un wishes nonetheless it would not have happened, because there is one thing he does feel guilty about and that is the fact, that, even though he has tried, he has still not managed to banish his lingering feelings of lust and excitement when it comes to Jaellien. If he had had a choice about it he would not have touched him ever again for Sinnafein's sake, but it looks as if the choice has just been taken from him.

“Please don't. Not this”, he says softly and stares up into Jaellien's face, already knowing from the look in those shadowed green eyes that it will not change anything.

“You know I will do it. I thought I wasn't going to, but it seems I just can't help myself”, the mage answers, watching how Tos'un can only swallow helplessly. “And you will not protest further, because you want it too.”

“But I shouldn't.”

“That is of no consequence to me.”

“Neither should you.”

“Then I will have my own guilty conscience to deal with in regards to your wife, but that does not concern you and neither does it change the fact that you owe me this. You owe me compliance. For you there is no choice.”

Jaellien's fingertips trace Tos'un's lips almost tenderly before they begin to wander all over his face and the drow dimly remembers feeling something like this from earlier today although the moment is hazy, mostly buried under unbearable pain. He quickly forces his thoughts away from that. Do not flinch. Never show how much it affects you. Concentrate on the touch, the here and now.

“I even still know where to touch you to make you arch your back just like that, how to suck on your skin just right until you moan.”

Clever lips wander along his sensitive neck as they whisper these words and Tos'un remembers too. He breathes deeply, trying to decide if that is why his body responds so eagerly to a touch it has not felt for such a long time. He has not expected that it would be so easy to ignore all the years that have passed, to ignore the last few hours, but as he bends his head backwards to give more access he finds that he can momentarily bury the present and all that it contains under pure sensation. It is probably better not to think about it in any case. Tos'un used to have a lot of practice in ignoring such things, although he has not needed to do it in a long time. Just force it all away and forget for a few hours until it is safe to remember again.

He gasps and moans as he is touched in all the right places with sure unerring hands, sneaking tendrils of insidious pleasure mingling with the pain from his back and when he finally moves his own hands to push his fingers into blond hair it is almost as if no time has passed at all. When he grips Jaelliens head and pulls him up into a kiss the other complies eagerly and without hesitation, like he has always done.

“I hate that you can still make me want this so much.”

Tos'un feels the lips moving agains his own.

“I'm not sorry”, he whispers.


End file.
